Summer Heat
by international-gurl322
Summary: After Beckett finishes reading Heat Wave, what is her reaction? How will her relationship with Castle change, once she sees how he views it in his writing? She goes to confront him about it at his loft, and sparks fly. A Caskett fic all the way!
1. Chapter 1: Classic vs Cliché

_My first story, yay! Hope you guys enjoy, please let me know what you think! I would appreciate it beyond belief! Oh, and I own absolutely nothing in Castle -- it's all ABC's!_

Chapter 1 -- Classic vs. Cliché

The soft metronome of lithe and speedy fingers clicking across a keyboard echoed throughout the high-end loft of a certain prolific mystery writer, accompanied only by the sound of the wheels in his mind churning furiously. Clad in his boxers and nothing more, the famed Richard Castle could be found sprawled out long-ways on his leather couch, pounding out his latest spur-of-the-moment book idea. There was an intense look of concentration about his ruggedly handsome features, quite the contrary to the usual playful, "I-have-something-up-my-sleeve" expression that he wore on a daily basis. His eyes shone with the thrill of inspiration, and he was lost in a world where he was free to dictate every individual and event as he so pleased. This was the scene of a writer in his natural habitat.

A bachelor for the weekend, Rick had only hours beforehand seen his fifteen year-old daughter off with her eccentric, deep-fried twinkie of a mother, who was delighted at the prospect of torturing poor Alexis with Prada and Gucci for two consecutive days. He had then practically shoved his own mom out the door and on her way to the airport, where she was to meet her girlfriends to catch a flight to Rio for a so-called 'titillating trip abroad'. The details of such an escapade he most definitely did not care to know, and honestly, the only thing on his mind was that he now had the entire place to himself for the first time in what seemed like a century.

So what would he spend the next day or two getting into, now that he was at liberty to do whatever he chose? After contemplating wild parties, complete with downing jell-o shots and dirty table dancing, the thirty-something author had somehow found himself glued to the screen of his laptop, affectionately referred to as "Ole Faithless". He had become absorbed in yet another Nikki Heat blurb, a few chapters of no particular importance, just something that had been nagging at the back of his mind. The success of his first novel involving the tough but savvy female detective had him riding on the 'heat wave' himself, so to speak, and as a result he couldn't get her out of his head. Or was it the real-life inspiration for the character that he couldn't stop thinking about? Either way, as far as he was concerned, he should change his name to butter, 'cause he was definitely on a roll!

Out of nowhere, there was a persistent knock at the door, and Rick let out an exasperated sigh. How did anyone expect him to write another best-seller, when he was constantly being ripped from the world of fabulous fictional macabre? It was probably his mother, the blessed yet irritating woman, who had been back twice already to retrieve things she'd forgotten. Tossing aside Ole Faithless, the vexed author didn't bother to cover up, and simply trod over to the door in his boxers. His mother had enough pictures of him naked as a child to know all about his body, so why try to hide his indecency now?

Twisting the knob and yanking open the door, Rick stated without prelude, "Mother, dearest, the madness must stop! Honestly, how important is your pink rubber ducky that moans when you squeeze it? At this rate, you'll miss your..." He trailed off, as his eyes met those of an intrigued, slightly amused detective. "Well, hello there." It was no use attempting to keep the surprise out of his voice, as he took in the crimson v-neck and curve-flattering jeans worn by the stunning Kate Beckett, who also seemed to be appraising his clothing -- or lack thereof.

"Am I interrupting something, Castle? Looks as though you're dressed to entertain," Kate quipped, arching a dark brow. A smirk flitted across her features as the visibly flustered man before her glanced down at himself, and let out a low whistle.

Momentarily, Rick composed himself, and leaned against the threshold with his trademark charm smile. "Enjoying the view?" He inquired cheekily, and felt a tingle of pleasure travel down his spine at the throaty chuckle she gave in response. It was a seductive sound if he'd ever heard one, and he found himself infinitely grateful that it had definitely not been his mother waiting for him at the door. Though he wasn't quite sure why Detective Beckett was standing before him, all dolled up, he certainly wasn't complaining about being interrupted any longer.

Brushing past him, Kate replied smoothly, "Put some pants on and maybe we'll discuss it later, 'kay, Big Rick?" She was equally pleased by the hearty laugh he uttered, and felt a certain warmth spread throughout her abdomen and lower. It wasn't long before she scolded herself for it, and turning to face him, wiped all humor from her expression. She proceeded to watch him pull on a pair of jeans emotionlessly, refusing to admire the way the light played on his toned upper body. The detective had come with a purpose, and planned to carry it out.

Finally half-way decent, Rick slid his hands into his pockets, and noted with puzzlement that the enigma that was Kate Beckett had seemed to lose all playfulness within seconds, and now regarded him with the same business-like air as at the precinct. "So, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure, Detective?" He questioned amicably, adding after a brief pause, "Miss me already?" There was that boyish glint in his eye, the one that had drawn in so many women, yet seemed to have little to no effect on Kate, who merely watched him levelly.

"You can tell yourself that all you want, Castle, if it helps you sleep at night," Kate replied with a smirk, shrugging off her light blazer and tossing it onto the chaise. Rick watched this move with interest, as he took it to mean she'd be staying a while. He then listened attentively as she continued, "But I came here because I have a question for you. Well, more like a series of them. An interrogation, really." She looked at him in all seriousness, no trace of beguilement or trickery in her voice.

Tilting his head to the side a bit, the writer felt a growing sense of curiosity at her words. What could be so pressing that she would come to his loft on a balmy Friday night to ask -- no, _interrogate_ -- him about? Gesturing for her to proceed, he said eagerly, "Well, shoot then," and then couldn't help but grin at the irony of his statement. "Perhaps a bad choice of words, but anyhow... continue."

A smile of her own playing on her lips, the detective nodded. Suddenly, she strode toward him, closing the gap between them to a mere fingers' length. "'They stopped at his front steps, breathless, and kissed each other, two lovers for the night getting soaked in the cooling rain.'" Kate watched as shock and recognition flitted across Rick's features at the quote, and yet just as he opened his mouth to respond, all the lights flickered out. Blackness surrounded them, and they could no longer see a single thing.


	2. Chapter 2: Everything is Eventual

_Oh my gosh, thank you all SO much for your positive feedback! It means so much to me, and I really appreciate your responses! It has definitely inspired me to continue, and I only hope that I've managed to meet your expectations. As always, reviews are very much cherished, as I love hearing what each and every one of you has to say. Again, Castle is all ABC's, and I own nothing!_

Chapter 2 -- Everything is Eventual

The breath that Rick hadn't realized he was holding billowed from his lungs at the surprise of being enveloped in total darkness. And yet, all that was going through his mind was the jarring words Kate had spoken prior to the unexpected blackout. "You memorized the end of my novel," He said softly, incredulous but touched. Even though he could no longer see her face, he could feel the heat from her body due to their close proximity, and longed to reach out and touch her. But fear and hesitation held the normally brazen man back, for he could not read the look in her eyes, or base his next move off of her expression.

Every muscle in her body taut with tension, the detective shivered at the depth and vulnerability of his voice. An overwhelming urge to simply _feel_ him against her suddenly struck her, and taken aback by its potency, she shied from it like a horse would a fast-moving vehicle. Forcing a sigh of exasperation, Kate replied sharply, "It doesn't take a brainiac to memorize a sentence or two, especially when they are as absurd as in your book." She could practically feel his recoil at her acerbic words, and instantly regretted them. Then again, it wouldn't be the first time she had given him an undeserved bitch-slap, and figured that he could handle it.

However, when the usually quick-to-respond author didn't make a sound, she felt guilt continue to gnaw at her resolve. Attempting to brush it off, Kate murmured, "I have a flashlight in my holster," and proceeded to reach for it. She rummaged around for a few moments, fingers moving blindly in the darkness, before she felt her skin caress something plastic. Though just as she seized it, the little bugger slipped from her grasp, and she listened with a growing sense of despair as it clanked to the floor and rattled away.

"Time to get on all fours, I suppose," Rick stated mildly, taking a literal stab in the dark at incorporating some humor into the situation. Kate was relieved that he hadn't taken her biting words to heart, and was finally speaking, however immature his statement might have been.

Easing to the ground, the two adults found themselves back in babydom once more, crawling around while groping for their 'toy.' After a few minutes of silent wandering, Kate struck gold, and was just about to grab the desired article when she felt a warm hand in a place it definitely shouldn't have been. "Shit, Castle!" She yelped, adrenaline kicking through her veins as she soared nearly a mile high off the floor. "Hands off the merchandise!" Now on her feet, she tried in vain to hide the fact that her breath had hitched, and her heart was pounding. Admittedly, it had been a while since she'd been 'handled' in that way, and there were thoughts flying through her head that she would rather have repressed.

"God, sorry! I didn't... I just... I mean it's dark, and..." A pause. "O, accursed hands, why art thou so... _naughtieth_!" Rick cried in typical Shakespearean fashion, arousing a snort from the previously startled detective. Even in the pitch black, he could picture her signature roll of the eyes, and grinned cheekily.

Somehow managing to mollify her raging libido, Kate feigned vexation as she replied, "Be grateful it's too dark for me to put a round through your philandering skull, Romeo." She ran a hand through her silky brunette locks, and added this time with genuine irritation, "Good going making me lose the flashlight yet again, real sua--" A burst of bright light silenced her, and she turned away from the source, wincing.

Rick held the flashlight just beneath his chin, eerily illuminating his prepossessing features. "Fear not, dear Juliet, for what is a light source but a terminator of improper endeavors?" He arched a suggestive brow, sending her a sex ray that nearly caused her head to explode. However, it wasn't long before an exuberant smile crept onto his face, for he was clearly enthralled by his own verbose brilliance.

Pursing her lips and shaking her head, the detective appeared as though she might let the comment pass undisputed, though this was before she sprang into action. Yet again utilizing the easy move of seizing his ear between thumb and forefinger, Kate drew disconcertingly near to his face as he squirmed in pain, nearly caressing his nose with her own. "Call me that again, and I swear to God, you'll never utter another sonnet." A smile of satisfaction settled upon her lips, as he desperately pleaded, "Apples, apples, apples!"

After milking the moment for all it was worth, Kate released the schooled writer, and gloated silently as he rubbed his reddened ear. In the process of her little torture session, he had dropped the flashlight to where it now lay shining upon the wall. Resting her hands on her hips, she demanded, "You gonna stand there lookin' like a wounded puppy, or suck it up and get that thing?" It was quite evident that she was enjoying herself, for there was a twinkle in her eye that even through his discomfort, Rick could appreciate. To be brutally honest, the man would've lopped off his own hand, had it guaranteed Kate Beckett smiling. Why? Because it didn't occur nearly as often as it should.

Still hunched over and caressing his sore appendage, Rick shuffled over to retrieve the flashlight. "Give a guy a break, Detective, sheesh. If my memory serves me right, you are the one who came to see me. Guests shouldn't abuse their hosts." Straightening to face her, he noted with some smugness that she now occupied the spot on the couch he had only recently vacated. He liked the way she sunk back into the cushions, and pulled her longs legs into an Indian-style sitting position. It gave him a glimpse of a more relaxed, casual Kate Beckett, a woman that was no longer a detective on duty, rather simply that -- a woman.

"Likewise, hosts shouldn't feel up their guests, no matter how dark it may get." She retorted, lifting her chin the slightest bit. With some unease, Kate noted the way he was gazing at her, and unconsciously fidgeted with her locket necklace. "What are you gawking at, Castle?" She inquired, an edge to her tone. All at the same time, she felt violated and delighted by the way he was seemingly studying her.

Aroused from his trance, Rick smiled faintly, and replied in a vague tone, "Oh, nothing." However, when she appeared dissatisfied by that answer, he elaborated, "It's just, as many times as I've pictured you here, it never quite compared to the actual image. Didn't do you justice."

His words caused Kate's breath to catch in her throat, and she couldn't keep her expression from softening. Their eyes locked, sparkling hazel on emerald green, and she once again experienced that peculiar urge to be nearer to him. And, like the time before, she shunned the sensation. Springing to her feet as though a hot coal had appeared beneath her ass, she blurted, "Does this palace have a ladies' room?" Internally chiding herself, she couldn't believe how transparently she had just behaved. It was worrying, really.

Chuckling at her abruptness, Rick walked toward her a few paces, sweeping the expanse of the loft with a grandiose gesture of his arm. "Allow me to escort you, m'lady." He grinned at her eye roll, and as she walked, lightly grasped her elbow while holding the flashlight in his free hand. However, as seemed to be the theme of the evening, something unexpected occurred when the detective stumbled over a certain pink rubber ducky lying forgotten on the floor.

In an effort to prevent her from a painful collision with the adjacent wall, Rick quickly slid an arm around her waist, and held her to him. There was mixture of shock and relief in her eyes, as she reflexively grasped his bare bicep. Where her shirt had peeled up the slightest bit, there was direct skin on skin contact that crackled with electricity, and prompted a stab of desire that started in her abdomen and traveled lower. Unconsciously, their faces drew nearer, until he could feel her breath tickling his cheek. Kate's eyes were heavily lidded, and she felt a sort of drunkenness fog her mind, as she inhaled the scent of his body. Their mouthes were ever so close, and hers even parted the slightest bit, as their lips just barely brushed...

_"Dad, Dad, Dad! Dad, Dad, Dad!"_

The pair both jumped, as Rick's phone began to shriek Alexis' specialized ringtone. Drawing in a breath, he dug in his pocket for a moment, before hitting 'send' and bringing the device up to his red ear. "Yes, darling? Your mother driving you bonkers already?" His arm dropped limply to his side, as Kate drew away from him and directed her gaze at the floor.


	3. Chapter 3: No Escape

_Once again, immeasurable thanks to all of you for your support. Especially Nathan fan, who prompted me to write this relatively short chapter mainly from the point of view of Beckett, in order to sort out her feelings and gain a better understanding of where she's coming from. And I'd also like to remind everyone that this is a work of fiction, so any improbable turn of events can be accredited to just that: fiction. Anyhow, hope all of you like it, and don't be afraid to review with criticism in addition to praise! Yet again, Castle is all ABC's and I own nothing at all!_

Chapter 3 -- No Escape

In no way, shape, or form was this going as the self-restrained Detective Kate Beckett had so carefully planned. As was typical for her, she'd had the entire evening mapped out, some disillusioned part of her thinking it would be like a football game that could be strategized play-by-play. Shutting her eyes for a moment, she traveled back to how she had originally visualized her visit would pan out. To be honest, her meticulous forethought had only survived to the point when Castle had thrown open the door in nothing but a set of blue plaid boxer shorts -- from there on, it had all gone swirling down the drain. Luckily, she had managed to keep her composure, but not without an internal struggle.

Unable to resist indulging herself just a smidgen, the brunette opened her eyes only very slightly, and took a peek at Castle beneath her lashes. Leaned casually against the wall, he seemed to be listening intently to the words of his daughter, as he absentmindedly twirled the flashlight between long, capable fingers. Kate's heart fluttered as a smile broke onto his face, and for the millionth time she imagined tracing with her tongue the crevices of his endearing dimples, brushing her lips against the crinkles at the corners of his laughing eyes...

That was when she caught and halted that particular train of thought, running it straight off the tracks. _What the _hell_ am I thinking?_ She berated herself, looking away so quickly she might've given herself whiplash. The whole purpose behind her coming to his place was to _discourage_ anything beyond friendship between them, and musings like that would certainly not serve the cause. Despite earlier misgivings and moments of faltering, she was confident that her resolution to maintain a purely platonic relationship with the man before her was a solid one.

After reading his novel, Kate had known for sure that he was under the impression she would one day cave in to his not-so-subtle courting. From the scattered moments of intimacy, to the full-blown seduction scene, it was clear that Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook were not just two fictional personas dreamed up for the sake of literary success. No, they were embodiments of real-life people, more specifically herself and Castle. The mannerisms of the characters' interactions had shaken her to the core, and made her wonder, what had she ever done to give him the idea she was interested in pursuing a love affair with him? All she'd ever done was shoot him down, cast him aside, and shove him away. And yet he kept on coming back for more, as if it was some sort of _game_ for him to toy with her.

In her mind, there was just no possible way for a romance to work out between them -- that is, without shattering someone's heart in the process. Sure, the fun and exciting fling Rick had portrayed in his novel was all well and good, and maybe had the circumstances been different, she'd have let things between them in real life simmer just a bit. But they were so different, with personalities that mirrored the north pole in relation to the south. For crime-solving, this might've been ideal, but in a commitment, it was sure to tempt an eruption of volcanic proportions. And there was also Alexis to take into consideration. She was wonderful girl, with a good head on her shoulders despite rocky parenting. But there was only so much dysfunction a pubescent fifteen year-old could take, and Kate would be damned if she cause her any unnecessary pain. She was by no standards equipped to be a mom, even if the amount of mothering Alexis needed was very little. Events in her life had damaged her ability to connect with others, and she would sooner lock herself away before hurt the young girl by making promises she couldn't keep.

Thus, there was only one conclusion she could reasonably come to: a romantic relationship with Richard Castle, true feelings aside, would come to a catastrophic and dire end.

So it was with this mindset that the detective squared her shoulders and faced straight ahead, eyeing Rick with a determination that he noted with some alarm as he slid his phone back into his pocket. However, before he had a chance to comment, Kate spoke in an adamant tone. "We need to talk, Castle. Remember the interrogation I mentioned earlier? It's hardly finished." She proceeded to piece the rest of her speech together in her head, trying to find just the right words. Unlike earlier, she wanted to know what would come from her mouth before it spilled out, so as to avoid another unwarranted slap in the face. Though she had convinced herself she didn't want to be Castle's girlfriend, she did desire the latter part of the word, and intended to make a concerted effort not to stomp all over his feelings once again.

Seemingly amused by her words, Rick said in response, "No objections from me, Detective. After all, it seems we're going to be here for a while." When she shot him a questioning glance, he added, "Alexis has just informed me that the mayor is strongly advising the citizens of New York to stay indoors for the remainder of the night, wherever they may be. In addition to a city-wide blackout, taxis have stopped transporting, as well as the subway and public transit."

Kate simply stared at him, mouth agape. She was stranded with Castle for the entire night... in the dark?

Seeing her expression, Rick grinned. "Looks as though we've landed ourselves right in the heart of a record-breaking heat wave."


	4. Chapter 4: Midnight Bottle

_Yet again, thanks to each and everyone one of you for your praise, support and reviews in general. I am so grateful! I hope you are enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it, and here you have it -- another chapter. Hopefully it lives up to your expectations, and keeps you interested. Please let me know what you think, whether it be positive or negative! Also, as always, Castle is owned by ABC, and nothing is mine!_

Chapter 4 -- Midnight Bottle

His mirthful eyes held captivated by the movement of a distressed female detective, Richard Castle couldn't help but feel secretly pleased by the night's turn of events. Hands grasped loosely behind his back, he watched with curiosity and amusement as the decidedly quirky yet enchanting woman rubbed her temples for a good half-minute, then turned on her heel and strode purposefully toward the window. He laughed heartily, calling out to her, "What, you don't believe me? As much as I do enjoy your company, Detective, even I wouldn't dream up such lies to make you stay." Shaking his head in disbelief as well as admiration, he continued to studiously observe her entertaining spectacle.

Pretending not to have heard his words, Kate thrust open the glass structure, and had the wind knocked out of her as a burst of sweltering humidity assaulted her. She felt as if her skin was literally melting away from her bones, and even just in the thirty seconds she stood there taking it in, beads of perspiration formed on her forehead. "Holy _shit_," the detective exclaimed, slamming shut the window and turning back to face a smirking Rick. "It's a downright furnace out there, and the streets are deserted. Looks like you were right. My congrats." A pause, in which she endured his suffocating self-aggrandizement. Then, unable to resist, she added slyly, "_Kitten_."

Rick shot her a black look, narrowing his eyes although incapable of preventing a smile from tugging at his lips. "You bring out the worst in me, you know," he stated, in a hit-and-miss attempt at a foreboding demeanor. He was surprised, however, when she threw her head back and let out a bout of disbelieving laughter.

"Right. Good one, Castle." Kate bit her lip to suppress a grin, as a bemused expression clouded his features. Clearly, he was debating whether to be flattered that she actually merited his humor with a reaction, or insulted by her apparent sarcasm. Deciding she would break it down for him, she elaborated, "The villain in you..." Pausing, she strode forward a few paces to punctuate her words with a poke at his chest, "is about as sinister as a labrador retriever puppy." She then crossed her arms over her chest, awaiting his reaction with admitted interest.

Gazing at her fixedly for a few moments, Rick let her words hang in the air, before he abruptly side-stepped her and walked away, taking the flashlight along with him.

Kate listened as the rhythmic cadence of his footsteps faded and then died out, leaving her utterly alone in the black. The only remaining sound was that of her measured inhale and exhale, which resulted in a feeling of unease forming a knot in her stomach. Clearing her throat, she shifted her weight and murmured, "Castle... If you're planning some juvenile reenactment of of 'An American Haunting', I think I'll take this opportunity to remind you that I _am_ wearing a gun." She halted in her speech, anticipating a reply. However, when none came, she added, "And when I said earlier that it was too dark for me to shoot... Well, I lied." She then fell silent, and wrapped her arms around herself. It was something she'd done as a kid to comfort herself, and seeing as it was pitch-dark, she saw no harm in doing so. It wasn't as if Castle or anyone else was around to ridicule her for it.

With a resigned sigh, Kate was just about to take back her earlier statement comparing Castle to a puppy, when she felt a warm hand rest on the back of her neck. Inhaling sharply, she reflexively whipped around, arms flailing blindly to gain leverage over her 'attacker.' However, when she heard the deep, familiar chuckle of a playful mystery writer, her previously flapping limbs dropped limply to her sides. Flipping on the flashlight, Rick grinned from ear to ear, having successfully duped the mistress of pretense. His apparent pleasure did not falter as the detective glowered at him, and as she agitatedly flicked bangs from her face, he stated, "Since you seem to be doubting it, I have made my mission tonight to prove to you that my badassness much surpasses that of a labrador puppy." His grin only widened as the woman before him snorted, clearly skeptical.

Undeterred by her doubtfulness, Rick continued agreeably, "But first, I have to soften you up a bit. Get you to loosen those buttons..." His eyes raked over her figure in the most lecherous manner possible, combing over every curve, every inch of revealed skin. And when she simply arched a brow in response, lifting her chin the slightest bit while resting her hands on her hips, he added, "And so, in the spirit of this, I have but one honest inquiry." Revealing what he had been hiding behind his back, the mischievous author dangled two bottles of wine before her with a flourish. "White or red?" He had somehow managed to grasp two glasses in the same hand, and balanced them with a true connoisseur's ease.

Smirking in a way that seemed to say, _You really are shameless_, Kate tilted her head a bit, pretending to consider her options. Then, having made up her mind, she seized the uncorked bottle of cabernet and grasped the neck of it between two fingers. When Rick offered her a glass, she uttered a short bark of laughter, and scoffed, "Oh, puh-_lease_." When he stared at her questioningly, she shook her head as if ashamed of his lack of knowledge. Leaning forward a bit, as if letting him in on an age-old secret, she murmured in a spellbinding tone, "Glasses," she paused, to tilt her head back and take a luxurious swig from the bottle, "are for stiffs."

At first, there was nothing but unbridled shock on Rick's face. After a moment or two, however, he was eyeing her with the same appreciation as he had earlier. "Full of surprises, aren't we, detective? Although I have to say, I suspected you to be more of the type to go for a Merlot, as opposed to Chardonnay or Riesling." His eye were twinkling, as he added impressively, "I, too, prefer a good Pinot noir more than anything."

Kate remained expressionless for a moment, as if considering his words with great intensity. She then thrust the bottle toward him expectantly, swaying it gently back and forth before his eyes. When he made no move to accept it, she said impatiently, "What, you afraid of catchin' my cooties, Castle?" And watched him with appraising emerald orbs. A nagging, incessant little voice in the back of her mind was telling her that her actions so far certainly did not suggest a platonic relationship. Though at the moment, she was enjoying herself too much to heed its warning. Baiting the man who was constantly at her heels was quite satisfying to her, and she planned to milk the moment for all it was worth.

Letting loose a rich chuckle, Rick's voice was considerably huskier than before as he replied, "Hardly my concern at the moment." He then withdrew the bottle from her hand, his fingers caressing hers in the process. He never allowed his eyes to stray from hers, as he took a long and drawn-out swallow of the wine. There was a sweetness to it that he knew was not from the liquid, but rather from her moistened lips, which she now unconsciously ran over with her tongue.

Eyes still locked with Kate's, Richard punctured the heady atmosphere by saying, "Are you up for a little game, detective?"


	5. Chapter 5: Slave 4 U

_As always, endless thanks to all those who have reviewed and given praise! It means so much to me, you could scarcely know. Just keep in mind that I very much appreciate it! And, yes, I realize the title of this chapter may seem a bit strange. Read on, however, and I do believe you will discover its meaning! Thank you very much for reading and reviewing, and I hope you enjoy! Never be afraid to review and share what's on your mind. Oh, and Castle is all ABC's!_

Chapter 5 -- Slave 4 U

One hand resting lightly on her hip, the other extended with palm facing skyward, Detective Kate Beckett held steady the gaze of her impish adversary as she declared, "You want me to even _consider_ complying to that risky proposition, you better hand over the vino." She couldn't help smiling faintly as he laughed in that contagious way of his, passing her the bottle without hesitation. Taking a quick swig while trying not to dwell on the fact that his lips had just touched the same surface, she exhaled deeply, and then inquired as if almost short of breath, "What did you have in mind?"

The smile that followed almost made her wish she hadn't spoken. It was slow, and gradually swept over his features, like the shadow of the sun at noon. And, most frightening of all, it was downright wicked -- dear God did it make her re-think having called him as vicious as a labrador pup. "I was hoping you'd ask that," he replied menacingly, his voice a growl that sent a chill down her spine. "Please, have a seat and I'll explain to you every dirty little detail." He then attempted a cackle, and completely shattered his earlier air of intimidation.

Yet again rolling her eyes, Kate stated in a reluctantly amused tone, "I'll only sit through your likely dramatic and borderline ridiculous speech if you drop the Dr. Evil impersonation. Sorry, but it's just not at all attractive." She giggled as his face fell in a comical, slightly endearing fashion, for he was obviously... _Hold the phone_, the detective thought, replaying in her mind the sound she'd just made. _I did_ not _just giggle. Shit, how much have I had? _Holding up the bottle to examine, she swished it around a bit, hoping to God and whatever other deity might be watching that Castle had somehow not heard the girlish noise she'd uttered.

And, luckily for her, Rick indeed seemed not to have noticed. Responding to her earlier demand, he replied lavishly, "Your wish is my command," and subsequently took a deep, dutiful bow.

With a skeptic's snort, the brunette stated rather sardonically, "Yeah, just like the sun shines out my ass every morning. A highly improbable occurrence." Then, one could have easily seen the lightbulb spring to life above her head, as an idea struck her. _Oh, you're going to regret you ever spoke those words, Castle_, she thought with twisted pleasure. Turning her attention to the mystery novelist with a newfound gleam in her eye, she stated brightly, "Alright, get on with it then. Let's have a seat so you can fill me in on this naughty little activity you're so eager to introduce to me." And, just as she knew he would, Rick nodded enthusiastically and went to sit down upon his beloved sofa.

But before he could do so, Kate pulled one of her stealthy, cat-like moves and beat him to it. Making a leap, she gracefully sprawled across the couch, and covered every inch with her long, lithe limbs. At his expression, she couldn't contain herself -- a grin not unlike that of the Chesire cat's lit up her features. He looked like a little kid cheated out of his Christmas presents. "What's the matter, Ricky?" She inquired innocently. "You look a bit flustered. Want some grog?" Gesturing at the wine, she struggled to suppress laughter, which was bubbling in her chest like a cauldron full of hot water.

Completely ignoring her, Rick stated in a wounded tone, "You took my spot." He gave her the saddest, most pitiful eyes he could muster, and let his mouth quiver a bit. That one he'd learned from Alexis -- though she was a goody two-shoes now, back in the day she'd worked her cutesy magic on him a countless amount of times to get her way.

Clapping a hand to her chest, Kate exclaimed in mock shock, "Oh, how very silly of me! You want to sit here, you said?" At his exuberant nod, she reeled in her long legs like the line of a fishing pole, and gestured at the empty space grandly. "Have at it, Kitten." Rick chose to ignore her use of the dreaded nickname, and plopped down on the cushion contentedly. He was jarred, however, when he felt an additional weight upon his lap. Glancing down at the disturbance, he was surprised to find a set of brilliant red peep-toe pumps sitting atop his jeans, crossed at the ankles with toenails painted a matching shade of crimson. "Uh... I've already got shoes, thanks." He said uncertainly, arching a brow at Beckett's uncharacteristic willingness to share.

Her tinkling laugh was also something of a surprise, for it was nothing like the sardonic bark or subdued chuckle he'd heard before. "Oh, Castle -- always the joker." Kate purred, keeping her feet right where they were. At his blank stare, she continued as though it were obvious, "I vaguely recall you saying earlier, 'your wish is my command.' I didn't imagine that, did I?" Rick shook his head slowly to and fro, clearly not seeing where this was going. Spelling it out for him, she said brightly, "Well, at the moment, I wish to be given a foot massage. Demand it, really." She chose that moment to kick off her shoes, which were conveniently slip-ons.

Gawping at her, Rick made a show of gazing back and forth between her face and toes, his expression that of a man just told he was to be put to death. "Are you..." He halted, watching her for a moment. Taking in her delighted eyes, the little smile on her pink lips, he knew anything she asked for he would've given her in a heartbeat. But _this_? This was just absolutely degrading. "Are you _serious_?" He somehow managed to choke the words out, dreading her response.

Tilting her head to the side, Kate appeared to consider him carefully, as though he were a ticking bomb before her eyes. Setting the wine on a wooden stand close by, she slowly leaned forward, expression unreadable. Though as a sinful little smile worked its way onto her face, he knew the answer even before she uttered it. "As a heart attack." She murmured in her best come-hither voice, then settled back into the cushions, her eyes shining with laughter. Grabbing up the bottle once more, she positioned it in her lap, and then watched for his reaction.

Narrowing his eyes to slits, Rick shook his head at her in mock dismay. "Who would've guessed that the hardheaded, pragmatic Kate Beckett would be so high maintenance? Not I, of course," He threw his arms up helplessly, then continued, "But it is proven to be so, for here she is, sprawled on my couch as though it is her throne, ordering -- not requesting, _ordering_ -- that I massage her queenly feet." He paused for dramatic affect, noting with interest that she seemed to be enjoying his little monologue. "And, if that isn't enough, she has stolen my wine and seen fit to drink it directly from the bottle. The nerve, I tell you, the nerve! This, ladies and gentlemen, is a truly ballsy woman -- one who will undoubtedly someday be my demise." He then hung his head as though suddenly struck dead, his entire body going limp.

Clapping lazily, the detective smirked as she stated, "That was quite a performance, Castle. I think your mother is right -- you missed your calling." She watched in amusement as he sprang back to life, a cheeky smile on his face. "But, however entertaining that little spectacle was... I still want my foot rub." Kate came as close to cackling as she ever had, as he let out an exasperated sigh, and looked skyward as though to ask, _why me_? "Thought you could distract me, eh? Not so, I'm afraid. You may be the next Brad Pitt, but even he had to massage Angelina's feet sometime." She smiled a bit at the cleverness of her own analogy.

Castle, however, seemed to have other things on his mind. "You're comparing us to Brangelina?" He seemed genuinely surprised, and even touched, she noted with chagrin.

"Oh, God," Kate moaned, "Why do I even bother?" She pointed at his lap, irritation and impatience in her voice. "Just start massaging, okay, Brad? Otherwise, I'll make sure you'll never meet any Angelina's _or_ Jen's."

Smiling devilishly, he stated, "I love it when you get cross. Feel like breaking out those cuffs, Detective?" A glare accentuated with daggers answered that questions for him. "Alrighty then, guess not tonight." He sighed in disappointment, then continued in a resigned tone, "Well, since I've already cast away any last lingering shred of dignity by agreeing to this, I might as well ask: right or left first?" When she indicated the left, he nodded. "Here goes... So long, masculinity and man-hood. What little I've known of you has been pleasant." He then grasped her foot in both hands, and was surprised by the supple smoothness of her skin. His own feet were like sandpaper, so to say the least, he hadn't been expecting hers to have the texture of a baby's bottom. _Maybe this won't be so bad after all_, Rick mused, as his hands glided across her skin. _After all, this is probably the closest I'll ever get to Beckett letting me touch her for an extended period of time, so I might as well enjoy it._

And enjoy it he most certainly did, once he discovered the sounds she made along the way. Little sighs of pleasure here and there were enough to keep him going, for in all honesty, these soft noises were some of the most seductive he'd ever heard. Rick had never been too fond of the overly-vocal type, the women who spent more time screaming than anything else. No, he appreciated the barely noticeable inclinations of gratification, finding the subtleness to be more sexy than anything more overbearing. So, needless to say, keeping the sound effects coming from Beckett was enough to give him something to fantasize about. He had always pictured her as this tough, savvy figure of authority, and sure, that was alluring, but it was much more satisfying to know that beneath all that was a woman that was just as moved by touch as any other.

Empowered by this knowledge, Rick just couldn't resist pushing the limit, and seeing how far he could go. Glancing up at Beckett's face, he noted that she now had her head back, resting on the arm of the sofa. Her eyes were shut, and she seemed to be reveling in the moment. Now confident that she was sufficiently diverted, he began to move his hand ever-so-slowly from the bottom of her foot, to her ankle, to the place where the flare of her pant leg formed a shallow roof over her shin. His eyes were glued to her face for any sort of reaction, as he allowed his hands to move of their own accord, sliding beneath the fabric and caressing the creamy softness of her leg. Enthralled, he noted how her back arched just the slightest bit, and her eyelids fluttered but did not open. Tracing small, light circles with his index finger, he made it all the way to the underside of her knee before he sailed over a sensitive spot.

It was then that all hell broke loose. Letting out a loud gasp, Kate's body propelled itself forward until she sat ram-rod straight, upsetting the wine bottle that had been lounging on her lap. Even as the dark liquid seeped out onto the sofa and her jeans, the first thing she did was thrust out a hand to slap on top of Rick's. Her eyes wild with a desire that both alarmed and aroused him, and he had to strain his ears to make out the breathless words that spilled from her mouth. "Th-the feet, Castle... I... I said... the _feet_!" She was giving him a look that both desperately pleaded for more and shrieked outrage, puzzling and turning him on to a point where he couldn't think straight.

So, he simply said the first thing that came to mind: "You're looking a little wet there, Detective."

Her eyes widening and jaw nearly smacking the floor, Kate's hardly contained libidinousness merged with a total fury at his words, and fused to form a deadly combination. Given this and the fact that her senses were too overdriven for her to process a single sane thought, she _did_ the first thing that came to mind -- and struck him sharply across the face.

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_A/N: Okay, so, I was wondering: should I change the rating of this story to M, based on the occurrences in this chapter? Let me know what you guys think, as I don't want to risk offending anyone! Thanks._


	6. Chapter 6: Vertigo

_Thanks to all my readers and reviewers, your support is greatly appreciated. I owe an apology to all of you for the delay it took for me to write and post this chapter, there is no excuse for it. I did get busy with the holidays and exams, but I am greatly sorry, and hope you are all still interested in the story! I hope this chapter will make up for the wait, it's fairly long, and covers a lot of ground. Enjoy, and as always, feel free to review with both praise and criticism. Castle belongs solely to ABC._

Chapter 6 -- Vertigo

Like two opponents prior to a fencing match, the good cop/no cop pairing of Kate Beckett and Rick Castle surveyed one another with unwavering eyes, each anticipating the other's next move. The latter of the two pressed cautious fingertips to his stinging cheek, an expression of astonishment, post-slap trauma, and some other unidentifiable emotion upon his face. Heavily weighted down by words unspoken, the air was thick with tension, and could've easily been sliced clean through with a knife. Seconds ticked by, and neither spoke, nor made any move to do so.

The conflicting thoughts running through Kate's mind were so loud, she was shocked that he couldn't hear them echoing, rebounding off the walls and being reabsorbed by her turbulent emotional storm. Even as the dark, rich crimson wine seeped in to stain her jeans, she held the author's gaze steady, while subconsciously waiting for the entire scenery to melt away. Any moment, she expected, the trendy artwork hung on the walls would be replaced by her own bare ones, and she would find herself alone in her apartment again, with only the sound of late-night infomercials to remind her of the outside world.

After all, this entire evening had to have been some pleasant nightmare, or a dream gone horribly wrong. A line had just been crossed, one that they'd both known was forbidden, and should be avoided at all costs. Thus, it couldn't possibly have been reality. Soon the female detective would wake up beneath the prim white sheets of her basic double bed, sweaty and disoriented, though entirely safe from Richard Castle's probing hazel eyes. She felt as though they were lasering right through her, combing through her every thought, and penetrating to the deepest depths of her soul. It was a sensation that caused a shiver to traverse the length of her spine, even in the sweltering humidity.

Slowly coming to realize that her feet still rested upon Castle's lap, Kate became the first to break eye contact by swiveling around until her legs reached the floor. As her gaze fell upon the emptied wine bottle lying across her knees, she released the breath she hadn't known she was holding, and felt some of the rigidity in her muscles begin to loosen. And yet she could still sense him watching her, as heat seemed to spread wherever his eyes raked over her body. Rotating her shoulders in a leisurely fashion, she feigned relaxation, though her heart continued to pound in her chest.

Finally regaining the courage to look him in the face, the nonplussed detective was again taken aback, this time by the smile playing on his lips. He was regarding her with a warmth and admiration she scarcely deserved, especially after having smacked him simply because of a careless comment he'd made. Kate was unsure as to why he seemed to be so amused, but she didn't like it, for it made her anxious. Honestly, she would have chosen the intensity over the pleasantness, as it was much easier to interpret.

Pursing her lips, Kate ran her index finger over the wetness that now caused the denim of her jeans to cling to her thighs, and heard in her mind his naughty remark. Just the recollection of his words made her cheeks color, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to get out of her soaked pants. Shattering the heady silence, she inquired in the calmest tone she could muster, "I don't want to ruin your couch, Castle... Do you have somewhere I could change?" She paused, then added with noticeable discomfort, "And something I could change into...?" With a cringe already prepared, she waited for the come-ons, wise-cracks, etc. to ensue.

To her surprise, there was no trace of trickery or smugness in Rick's voice as he replied, "I'm sure Alexis has something that would fit you, Detective. Her room is first on the left, once you get up the steps." He gestured at the stairs, but made no move to get up himself. Hands tucked behind his head, he observed her with a neutral expression, as though she were a painting in a gallery -- only mildly interesting. He then handed her the flashlight, and at her questioning gaze, brandished his iPhone as though it were a sword. "Don't worry, I've still got light." He offered a quick, lazy glimpse of a smile.

"Uh, thanks." Kate responded, not bothering to hide her suspicion. Standing up slowly, she eyed the leisurely author warily, before striding toward the stairs and climbing them with an athlete's swiftness. He watched her disappear around the corner, before releasing a rich chuckle that had been sitting in his throat. Of course he'd contemplated offering to let her borrow a pair of his boxers, or even one of his oversized shirts -- but then he'd decided against it, as the last thing he wanted was to have to explain a black eye to his mothering daughter. Plus, Beckett had been through enough already, and he could see her pride was sufficiently wounded. Though he loved to tug her hair every now and again, he didn't want to alienate her, and feared taking it too far would do just that.

So, now fully focused upon making up for his callousness, Rick stood up and surveyed the room for inspiration.

Upstairs, Kate was viewing with awe the casual elegance of Alexis Castle's bedroom. It was a beautiful mix of chic and vintage furniture, complete with upholstered ottomans, an ornate wall mirror, and a canopied bed. She marveled at the eye the teenage girl had for interior decorating, and wondered if she was considering a career in the field. It looked like a photograph taken straight from a i_Vanity Fair/i_ magazine, and yet still somehow captured the carefree air of a young woman. She admired the innocence of the painting mounted above the tasteful, antique wooden dresser -- it was one of her favorites. Entitled i_Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose/i_, it depicted two little girls in white dresses lighting paper lanterns in a pretty, picturesque field of flowers.

Giving one last sigh of yearning, she gazed dreamily at the painting, for a moment losing herself in its purity. Kate then snapped out of her reverie, and revolved gracefully on her heel to shut the door, unaware that it had rebounded off the threshold to remain cracked the slightest bit. Glancing once more at her surroundings, she set the flashlight down upon the nightstand, and again headed over to the dresser. Tentatively pulling open one of the drawers, she was slightly amused by the precise neatness with which everything was folded and stacked. Alexis certainly was the only teenage girl she knew of that would exert a concerted effort to organize her clothing.

After a few minutes of gentle rummaging, the detective finally found something that she felt comfortable borrowing, and knew that she wouldn't stretch out. Extracting a a pair of white yoga shorts, along with a tank top displaying the breast cancer awareness logo, she laid her selections upon the bed and exhaled deeply. Who would have guessed that she would end up in Castle's daughter's bedroom, playing dress up after having spilled wine down her front? It was definitely not a part of her strategy, but as she'd mused over earlier, nothing so far had gone 'according to plan.' She was damn well close to giving up, what with the alcohol creating a haze inside her mind, and fatigue ebbing away at her muscles.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts of surrender, Kate shimmied out of her damp jeans, and folded them smartly upon the hardwood floor. She then pulled the softer material up and over the expanse of her long legs, surprised, to say the least, by the amount of flesh that remained exposed. The shorts rested low on her hips, and ended just above her mid-thigh area, leaving very little to the imagination. And though she would've preferred not to wear them around Castle, she had to admit that they were cool as well as comfortable, and somehow, she didn't think he would have any objections.

Satisfied, the female detective proceeded to remove her crimson v-neck, which had received a dousing of wine across the middle. What she didn't know was that Castle, innocently for once, had come up the steps to retrieve something from his own room, and had reflexively glanced into Alexis'. He was unable to tear his eyes away from the sight that greeted him through the crack in the door. The flashlight played across the flat, taut surface of Beckett's abdomen, as her arms reached toward the ceiling and she removed her top, seemingly in slow motion. Tossing her hair back, she was left clad in nothing but the revealing shorts and lacy bra, allowing him to drink in her softly curvaceous shape. He knew that at any moment she would turn her head, see him pulling a peeping tom, and that would probably be the last thing he ever did. But dear God, what a way to go...

"..._Castle_?" Mid-way through pulling on the tank-top, Kate was both shocked and amused to see the half-illuminated face of Richard Castle looming in the doorway. She surprised even herself by actually _laughing_ as he darted down the hall, disappearing quicker than she had time to blink. "Look, you don't have to do a superman out the window, alright? I'm not going to come after you." Finished with the task of dressing, the detective grabbed the flashlight and stepped into the hall. At the drawn-out sound of a floorboard creaking, she shone it upon the top of the stairs, and shook her head good-naturedly at the sight of zany Castle frozen, complete with a deer-in-the-headlights expression.

Striding toward him with a haughty bounce in her step, Kate contemplated the man before her with a somber face, then chuckled yet again in that seductive manner which was all her own. "Now? Now we're even." She turned on her heel to go back into Alexis' bedroom, wagging a finger at him as she retreated. "You better keep that little show you just received fresh in your mind, Castle, 'cause it's the most you're ever gonna see of this chick." She bent over to pick up her soiled clothing, unaware that Castle had appeared in the doorway just in time to view what little there was of the shorts stretching across her tush.

Grinning at the way in which the sassy cop had just contradicted herself, Rick averted his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, choosing not to utter a word. She deserved at least a sliver of dignity still in tact, after all that had occurred over the course of the evening. In fact, though it had all been quite entertaining, he couldn't help but feel guilty for everything from his poor choice of wording to his barbaric behavior. So it was for this reason that, when Kate straightened and turned to face him, the author held out to her what he considered a worthy peace offering.

"I'm sorry for humiliating you." He stated in a low, sincere tone, holding steady the astounded detective's gaze. "You deserve to be treated with respect and consideration like anyone else. In addition, you are by far the most extraordinary woman I've ever known." Rick let this sink in, before taking her hand, pressing something cool into her palm, and then releasing it. He watched as she opened her mouth then closed it once more, clearly at a loss for words.

Unsure of how to react to his heartfelt speech, Kate looked down at her feet, in order to keep him from seeing the little smile playing on her mouth. Gently biting her lip, she slowly opened her palm to reveal a small metal tin. "Godiva white chocolate pearls," She read aloud in a murmur, fingering the letters engraved onto the container.

"They're obviously not real pearls, but hey, these ones you can eat. Talk about instant gratification, right?" Rick smiled, rather nervously awaiting her verdict. He had rummaged around in his cabinets, searching for something to give her that would not seem too large, too small, or too suggestive. The chocolate had seemed perfect, for he knew she had a sweet tooth, given the dessert-like quality of the lattes she drank each and every morning.

The silence that followed his words slightly worried Rick, and he began frantically trying to think of alternative gifts. This process was halted, however, when Kate stated in a hushed, reverent tone, "My dad used to bring these home for my mom all the time. I thought they'd stopped selling them, but..." She faltered. Finally looking up at him, her emerald eyes shone as she added in a faintly trembling voice, "They were her favorite." Popping open the tin, she extracted a single milky ball, and watched it as though she expected it to fade away at any moment.

Smacking a hand to his forehead, Rick berated himself, "God, what is wrong with me? I never meant to remind you of..." He was halted mid-sentence by a finger being pressed to his lips. There was a sort of awed feeling that the man experienced, as he viewed the genuine, dazzling smile that dawned upon Kate's features. To know that he had been the instigator of this beautiful occurrence brought a certain warmth into his chest, and if her face at that moment was to be the last thing he'd ever see, he would die feeling nothing but joy. However, given that he felt fairly sure he was in no danger of death, he simply took a mental picture and left it at that.

"It's sweet." Kate spoke softly, as she removed her finger from his lips just long enough to replace it with a chocolate pearl. Unsure of whether her words had been referring to the gesture or the candy, Rick opened his mouth to accept it, and locked eyes with her as his tongue grazed her fingers. Chewing, he watched her lick these very same fingers, one by one, and then reach back in the tin for another pearl. "Thank you." She stated, her voice a whisper for reasons unbeknownst to her.

A hush settled over the room. For the second time that evening, there seemed to be a powerful magnetic force pulling them toward one another, and they were unable to even fathom resistance. But as he drew nearer, Kate inhaled the delicious scent emanating from his body, and alarms screeched inside her mind. Her hormones yearned for skin-on-skin, but the logic meter embedded in her brain was, without fail, causing internalized chaos. She had only t-minus five seconds to decide a plan of action, and thus, her backing away appeared more like some sort of spastic onset of a muscular disease, rather than the smooth movement she had imagined.

In a desperate attempt to mask her anxiety, Kate proceeded to cough relentlessly into her elbow, hiding her face behind a curtain of dark hair. "Uh... Okay there, Beckett? Or should I try the heimlich?" There was an awkwardness in his tone that pained her to hear, and she knew that she was going to have to set the record straight. She had known from the start that, sooner or later, she was just going to have to come out and tell Castle that she didn't want them to become 'an item.' If she continued to lead him on, one of them was going to end up hurt without even pursuing a romantic relationship. These sporadic moments where she felt so connected to him were only temporary, she strongly believed, and the last thing she needed on her conscience was the additional stress of dead-end love affair.

Lifting her head from the crook her arm, complete with disheveled hair and reddened cheeks, the detective offered a weak smile. "It was, uh... a tickle." She paused, lips parted, and noted with growing mortification that he was giving her the blankest of all stares. "I mean, in my throat, you know..." Her fingers absently caressed her neck, as heat continued to spread over her features. She sensed herself losing control of the situation, and subsequently felt a tidal wave of panic swell up within her. This called on her to resume no-nonsense cop mode. "Why the hell are you still shirtless, anyway?" She exclaimed in an accusatory tone, abruptly turning the tables on the incredulous, dumbfounded author.

Completely taken aback, Rick lifted his hands in surrender, eyeing Beckett as though she were nuttier than a fruitcake. In all seriousness, he stated, "I think Alexis should have some midol in her bathroom..." He raised a single brow, at a total loss for what she wanted him to say. As to what had brought on her sudden mood swing -- or more like mood hurricane -- he didn't know. What had he done wrong? He'd apologized to her, complimented her, and even wooed her with chocolates... The only possible explanation in his mind was, in fact, PMS.

Burying her face in her hands, Kate's voice was muffled as she said in utter exasperation, "Could you just i_please/i_ put a shirt on? It's just... it's not appropriate for you to be running around looking like... like Rick of the Jungle or something, while I'm here." In all honesty, she simply didn't want to be tempted any longer. Admittedly, it was difficult to focus with his toned upper body constantly in her line of vision. She feared the physical pull she felt toward him would otherwise cloud her judgment.

Unable to keep from snorting, the mystery writer repeated in an amused tone, "'Not appropriate'? You sound like a kindergarten teacher. Do scantily clad men make you uncomfortable, Miss Beckett?" He teased, using humor as a mechanism to cope with his bewilderment. It seemed to him that her behavior was uncalled for, and somewhere deep down, it hurt him. He had made a real, concerted effort to get back on the same page with the enigmatic woman standing in his midst, and even if only for a moment, he'd felt the gap separating them close. But no matter what he did, she always created distance. He took a step forward, she took three back. It was a dance he had once found enthralling, but was beginning to tire of. He'd made mistakes, sure enough, but so had she. Where did the suspicion end, and the trust begin?

Hands dropping limply to her sides, Kate's expression was a clear advocate of her frustration. Rick knew that she was no longer in the mood for cheekiness, and though he could not get his head around her sudden change of heart, the last thing he wanted was to push her further away. However at the present moment, he was wounded, and couldn't help but siphon off some of his resentment on her. "Your wish is my command." He repeated his phrase from earlier, this time with curtness and no trace of humor. This punctuated his exit with a flare of drama, as he went to put on a shirt just as she'd requested.

The resonance of his words hung over her, triggering a pang in her chest and causing pain to flicker across her features in the half-illumination of the flashlight. Everything she had tried so ardently to avoid was happening before her eyes, unfolding like the plot of some nefarious novel. It was i_Heat Wave/i_ gone wrong, she realized with a jolt. Kate chewed over the bittersweet irony of this knowledge, for she had been aware of it all this time, but had chosen to cast aside her convictions for the sheer pleasure of the banter she and Castle shared. He brought out something in her that had been dormant for a long time, and it made her feel alive. A fire ignited in her when the man sauntered into a room, and it was just enough to get her heart pumping in a manner that could distract her, make her forget all the adversity that colored her past.

But it wasn't enough, and it never would be. This was the mantra that she ground into her very core, and was filled to the brim with when Castle returned, this time entirely clothed. Having perched on the edge of Alexis' bed, Kate looked at him, and finally saw what she had ignored countless times before. The question in his eyes, which spread to coat his features in a raw vulnerability that made her heart bleed. "It can't work," She confirmed aloud for the first time, without using riddles or tricks to disguise her words. Her voice was a hollow, reverberating whisper that sliced through him like a double-edged sword.


	7. Chapter 7: Breakthrough

_Hey all, unending thanks and love to each and every one of you that reads and/or reviews -- I enjoy writing so much, and hearing your praise as well as criticism really inspires me and helps me to improve. Though I've noticed that there has been less of a response lately, and that makes me wonder, are you guys losing interest? Should I wrap this up and start on something else, or keep on going with this particular story? Don't be afraid to share your thoughts on the matter, I love hearing from each of you. Hope you like the chapter, and if not, my apologies! I forgot to say last chapter, hope you all had a wonderful holiday. Castle belongs to ABC._

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Chapter 7 -- Breakthrough

Sitting upon his daughter's floral bedspread looking so open, so raw, so vulnerable, was a woman that Rick Castle didn't know. Rather than a bold, feisty lioness of a homicide detective, he found himself viewing a nineteen year-old -- lost, insecure, and searching for a much-needed buoy in a sea of despair. It was the same devastated girl he had met that fateful day in the Beth Israel Medical Center, when he'd given the news about the discoveries he'd made involving her mother's case. It had taken him only a moment to realize that this trembling young lady, at her wits' end, was the person that Beckett had locked away the second she'd learned of her mom's murder. A side of herself that she kept hidden deep within the darkest, most obscure corner of her soul. This girl, robbed of the carefree innocence she'd known and groping desperately for it, had been forcibly smothered by a primal instinct. The one for survival.

It was this very same compulsion to shove forward, to shun emotion and remain unharmed, that kept Kate Beckett from allowing herself to love and be loved in return. Though it was true that, following her mom's death, she had received professional help to deal with her self-destructive impulses, no therapist could teach her how to use the furiously pumping muscle in her chest all over again. Given that it had been torn savagely during a time when she had still been learning how to handle it, her heart was irregularly mended, an appendage wounded that would never be quite the same. Its defenses were in overdrive, keeping out both the harmful as well as the healing.

This was a habit that needed to be broken, and as the two individuals surveyed one another from across the bedroom, they were each aware of it. But it was one thing to know of a problem's existence, and a whole other endeavor to repair it. Rick was fully aware of the fact that he couldn't be her knight in shining armor, galloping on a valiant steed to rescue her, the distressed damsel, from her inner demons. Though he was a writer, paid to utilize his overactive imagination, if there was one thing he'd learned over the course of his thirty-something years it was this: the difference between writing a novel and living a life was that no single person could dictate the turn of events, no matter how hard they tried. Reality was reality, fate was fate, and thus the carnival ride of everyday existence was born.

But another thing he had picked up simply by living, loving and suffering was that when someone important came into your life, you did everything in your power to keep them around. Sure, what was meant to happen would, undoubtedly, occur, but that didn't justify sitting around with your finger up your ass. Rick liked to think that a sliver of an individual's life was their own to control, and this had everything to do with matters of the heart. He had made mistakes with his own relationships, that was for certain -- twice divorced, he was definitely not the love guru. But on the other hand, one of these inauspicious marriages had bestowed upon him the greatest gift of all: his daughter, Alexis. She was his universe, the best thing to ever happen to him, and what led him to believe that out of difficult circumstances came unexpected virtue.

In a nutshell, the man -- much wiser than anyone gave him credit for -- was not about to let Detective Beckett slip away. If she thought she could say a few scornful words, shy away from a couple of his advances, and subsequently force him to give up, then she was wholly mistaken. She was scarred and bruised from her past, he understood that, but it did not dismay him. Everyone had their battle wounds, himself included. But that didn't provide an excuse not to live, or take the chances that came as part of doing so. Every day was a risk, and by getting out of bed each morning, Rick thoroughly believed that one was agreeing to take whatever life tossed in their direction. And that included putting yourself on the line for something that might not turn out, but had the potential to be incredible.

And despite the trials and tribulations their relationship had already suffered, Rick felt confident that, given the chance, his connection with the spellbinding brunette before him could very well be one of those breathtaking things life sometimes offered. It was an opportunity he was unwilling to let pass by.

Taking a step or two until he stood in the center of the room, the mystery writer was finally driven to speak. "You know, it marvels me how you can say that." He stated in an unwavering tone that forced Beckett to maintain eye contact. "That it 'can't work' or 'isn't appropriate.' Who are you to decide such a thing? Fill me in on how that spins for you, Detective, when it seems to me that it takes two for any relationship to 'work', as you put it." When she remained wrapped in a cocoon of silence, he continued, "You're wounded, I get that. But who isn't?" No response. "Please tell me, who have you met that isn't at least a little fucked up? And don't even try to indicate me, because I'll tell you right now, I've gotten around a few more times than a labrador puppy." Behind his measured words, there was a silent rage that Kate had never seen in him before.

Having once again shoved away the vulnerable girl at her core, the detective stood up slowly, arms crossed over her chest. "You just don't get it, do you, Castle? You really don't." She shook her head at the wall, an expression of pure and unbridled bitterness disfiguring her features. Now looking him straight in her eye, she hissed, "You don't know me." There was a derision in this simple phrase that seemed to chill the room, sealing it off from the heat outdoors. These were words she had used many a time before, to assure herself that she was still, in fact, safe from penetration. They had turned away many a man, and alienated many a helping hand.

However, Castle surprised her by simply shrugging. "Maybe I don't." He watched her levelly, before taking another step in her direction, further closing the gap between them. "But is it a crime for me to want to change that?" There was such strong feeling in his statement, she had to look away to refrain from breaking down, right then and there. The brick wall surrounding her heart was built to last, but not forever. Though she had spent the better part of the last decade adding to it, little by little, she'd never accounted for meeting someone like Richard Castle. From the moment she'd first met him, there had been something peculiar about him that got under her skin like no other. While other people were easily diverted by her mask of indifference, he was like an archer intent on a specific target: her heart.

Rubbing her temples as she did whenever feeling stressed, Kate swallowed hard, choking down the emotion bubbling within her. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe... you won't like what you see?" Her voice was small now, far from the authoritative bark she was known for at the precinct. The insecurities she now displayed for him were heart-wrenching. "I'm not Nikki Heat any more than you are Jameson Rook. On the surface it may seem like a perfect match, but underneath all that, I'm not something you can categorize with a pen and paper." She let these words sink in, finally voicing all the conflicting thoughts she'd been having since reading the novel of discussion. "You can't write me, Castle. I am who I am, and that's beyond your control. Everyone is screwy, you say, and I damn well know that. I'm a cop -- screwy people is how I make a living." She took in a deep, calming breath. This was by no means easy for her, as even before tragedy had struck, she'd been hard-pressed at expressing her feelings. "But me... I'm a different kind of fucked up. The sort that... that isn't right to be a..." She faltered, before whispering, "A mother."

Spurred to act, Rick gently lifted her chin with his index finger, forcing her to look at him. "Hey," he stated softly, noting with a jolt the moisture that made her emerald eyes shine through the darkness. "Don't even think about bringing Alexis into this. You wanna know something?" He paused, absently stroking the outline of her jaw with his thumb. "She adores you. Absolutely, positively idolizes you." A faint smile worked its way onto his face, mirroring the one that Kate had been unable to suppress. "And my mother... Well, as you know, she has an opinion on everything, and has been telling me from the start that if I let you get away, she'll disown me." He chuckled, glad to see that he had somehow managed to get the detective off of the self-deprecating bandwagon she'd been on. "You don't want me to be a pwoor owphan bwoy, do you, Miss Beckett?" Shooting her his most pathetic puppy eyes, he took a page from Oliver Twist in his theatrical impersonation.

Biting her lip to suppress a smile, Kate shook her head, this time good-naturedly. "Why is it that you have to be so damn adorable? I swear to God it's bribery." At his impish grin, she couldn't help but laugh just a little. Still, at the flip-flop her heart did upon seeing his smile, she felt the familiar sensation of panic and apprehension lurking in the back of her mind. The power he had over her, put frankly, scared her shitless. And though she now understood that what they had, whatever it might or might not turn out to be, was worth pursuing... that didn't mean her fear had evaporated. It didn't mean that she wasn't still compelled to run, to pull a Houdini as she had many times before in love. It would be so easy for her to just turn around and walk out the door, too easy.

Easy, for certain, but not right. Not satisfying, not what she knew in her heart she honestly wanted.

Having lost herself in thought, Kate was brought back to reality by a tender hand tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. Her heart skipped a beat, for the expression on Castle's face as he looked at her was one that she had seen solely in movies. It was only a mere moment before the urge to be nearer to him flared up again, and she caught herself drawing away. She wanted things to be different... she wanted _him_. So, reaching out a faintly trembling hand, the bruised but not broken young woman entwined her fingers with his, and in that gesture said more than she could've with a thousand words.

Almost in awe, Rick gazed at their interlaced hands, and had to admit that this moment topped his list. A smile blossomed on his face that conveyed one emotion, and one only: joy. Looking at Kate, he knew the feeling was mutual, for her expression was one similar to his own. But in her eyes, her beautiful and bright green eyes, he still saw that flicker of fear. It had dimmed, but it was undoubtedly there, and it made him want to sweep her up in his arms until she laughed away whatever was troubling her. Instead, he simply took her free hand in his own and stroked it, inquiring warmly, "What are you thinking?"

Tilting her head to the side a bit, Kate considered his words. There was so much clutter inside her head, sometimes it was difficult for her to even decipher her own thoughts. But she did know what she was feeling, and given that was the closest thing, she decided to go out on a limb and share it with him. "I'm thinking..." She paused, summoning up all of her courage and taking a step closer to him, "that you make me feel better than I have in a long time." The detective smiled a bit shyly, as he beamed with pleasure at her words. She faltered a moment, but was spurred on by the gentle, encouraging way in which he caressed her arm. "And..." A pause. "I'm terrified. Of where this is going... of how it might end..." Drawing in a deep, shuddering breath, she added, "We both know that I don't handle loss very well. And I'm just afraid that..." A blockage lodged itself in her throat, a bundle of nerves and emotions that refused to budge.

Seeing her so overcome moved the mystery writer, and made him want nothing more than to comfort her, to banish all her fears, doubts and woes. Pulling her to him, he rubbed her back soothingly, resting his chin atop her head. Kate felt as though she might melt like putty against the warmth of his body, taking in his heavenly scent. It had been so long since she'd been held, she'd forgotten how good it felt, especially in the arms of someone you were discovering new and electrifying feelings for. The way she fit perfectly against him was almost surreal, and made her yearn for more. Wrapping her arms around his middle, she laid her head against his shoulder, and pressed her lips to the smooth skin of his neck. There was no place she would've rather been, and in those quiet moments, she discovered a place that provided her with more safety and contentment than anywhere else she could think of.

Lifting her head, Kate's eyes were heavily lidded, as though she had drifted off to sleep for a moment or two. Smiling up at him in blissful peace, she exhaled slow and deep, only narrowly managing to refrain from nuzzling his chest. The lump in her throat now thoroughly dissolved, she picked up her words from earlier in a soft, rapturous tone. "I'm so afraid that I'll get too attached to you, to Alexis, and then something will happen... You'll be hurt, or our differences will become too much to cope with..." The tranquility left her face and voice as she spoke of all the possible roadblocks, and she unconsciously nestled closer to him as she continued, "I... I don't want to remember how good it feels to have a family, and then have to face being alone again." Sniffling ever so faintly, she blinked back moisture, and turned her face away so that he wouldn't see.

Once again, Rick used a single finger to gently rotate her face toward his. His nose nearly caressing hers, he stroked her hair absently, attempting to reassure her. Pressing his lips to her forehead, he spoke in a calm and even tone. "I can't make any guarantees about what will and won't happen between us, because that just wouldn't be fair." He kissed her nose softly now, and then looked her straight in the eyes as he added, "But what I can promise you, is that you'll never be lonely again. Not tonight, not tomorrow..." The author rested his forehead against Kate's, caressing her nose with his own. His mouth just barely grazed hers, as he finished faintly, "Never."

A single tear rolled down Kate's rosy cheek, as their lips touched for the first -- and certainly not the last -- time. It was sweet and true, their mouthes moving in tandem, an innocent declaration of blossoming affection. But as the seconds ticked by, the inevitable occurred as their embrace grew more passionate, and a fire ignited between the scorching heat of their bodies. Tongues battled for dominance and hands roamed where they pleased, raising the temperature in the room to a tropical level. Rick, swept up in the moment, backed up the tantalizing woman in his arms until she sat perched on the bed, with him between her knees.

Recalling in whose room they were in, Kate gasped out loud as he planted nibbling kisses up and down her neck. Bunching portions of his sweat-soaked t-shirt in both hands, she murmured breathlessly, "Castle..." But he paid no mind to her beckoning, hands starting slowly up her shirt, and pressing his mouth to spots no man had dared near in ages. Trying again, she whispered with all the more urgency, "Castle, please," and clamped her thighs tighter around his waist. Still no response, other than his biting and licking just above the dampness of her bra. "Castle... Oh, God... Think of Alexis... Her bed..." She sighed the words, her mind in a million different places at once, as she writhed in both panic and ecstasy. The detective was dangerously close to giving in, when she felt a hand slide between the wispy material of her panties and the red-hot slickness of her skin.

"_Rick!_" She half-moaned, half-yelped, seizing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head up. "Every night your fifteen year-old daughter sleeps in this very bed, dreaming of multi-colored ponies and adorable, yipping puppies." Kate's eyes were wild with lust as well as outrage, and her dark locks were disheveled as though a hurricane had whipped through them. Panting, she watched recognition flit across his features, and subsequently loosened her iron grip on his hair. "We are _not_ doing the nasty on the same bed that your child writes her diary entries about becoming the first female president of the United States. _Capisce_?" The Italian expression rolled off her tongue easily, as she arched a stern brow at him.

"_Sì, la mia bella donna_." Rick grinned cheekily, as he utilized one of the only two phrases he'd picked up while vacationing in Florence: _Yes, my beautiful woman_. He admired the little laugh lines that appeared near the corners of Beckett's dancing eyes, as she shook her head at his shamelessness. Unable to resist, he brushed his lips against the endearing crinkles, lingering a bit longer than necessary. He then peppered kisses across the rest of her face, which had broke out into a grin at his playful sexiness.

Placing her hands on his chest, Kate pushed him off only half-heartedly, her tinkling laughter filling the room. "I can't believe you were ready to boink me on your daughter's bed. What kind of perv are you?" The deep, throaty chuckle that drove him wild ensued, as he nipped at her earlobe.

"Mmm, a hungry one," he growled huskily into the soft flesh where her neck met her collarbone, causing her to stir beneath him. Rick then stood up, and pulled the detective right along with him. He simply held her against him for a moment or two, hands on the small of her back. She had just opened her mouth to speak, when he abruptly swept her up in his arms in one deft, swift movement. At her exclamation of surprise, he simply grinned, and proceeded to carry her out the bedroom door.

"I am capable of walking, thanks." Kate patted his cheek offhandedly, then attempted to dismount from his bridal-style transport. She was surprised, however, when he merely tightened his hold on her and kept on going. "Where are you taking me, Castle?" The amused brunette questioned, laughter in her voice.

Rick looked at her as though it were obvious. "Why, my chamber, of course."

"Oh, you have a _chamber_ now. How many times have you used that line, lover boy?" Kate simpered, casually slinging an arm around his neck.

"I don't know," he replied in that low, irresistible voice of his, as he laid her down on the mattress. "How 'bout you tell me?" Looming above her, he kissed both eyelids and then each cheek, hands resting on her hips.

Reversing their positions with an athlete's ease, Kate smirked provocatively at him from above. "How 'bout I show you a thing or two about making this _chamber_ a little more beddable?"

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_A/N: Alright guys, this can be the end, or I will keep on going. I have ideas for this story, but also for other ones. What do you think? Keep on going with this one, or start something new -- a sequel, perhaps? Or a whole new concept? You tell me. Many thanks!_


	8. Chapter 8: Wake Up Call

_I have to thank you all profusely for your generous responses, I really do appreciate your opinions and feedback -- makes me smile every time. At your request, I have written one more chapter for this story, and am now setting my sights on a sequel. Keep an eye open for that! Once again, reviews are cherished, and we all know I love my readers. Thanks for sticking with this story, and inspiring me to continue writing it. Castle is all ABC's._

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Chapter 8 -- Wake Up Call

Amid the blissful ignorance of a deep, encompassing slumber, one is often able to escape the commotion and stress that is a way of life in New York City. Immersed within the confines of one's own mind, fanciful dreams and wild fantasies ensue, exercising regions of the brain not always indulged during the hustle and bustle of an individual's daily schedule. And unlike a certain mystery writer who had robbed center stage in both her heart and mind, Kate Beckett was one such person who rarely allowed herself to accommodate the nonsensical illusions that sometimes went hand in hand with sleep. She was a woman of indisputable logic and the hard truth, who preferred to keep the line between fact and fiction beyond shadow of a doubt.

However, for the first time since being diagnosed with chronic insomnia, Kate found herself in the midst of an undisturbed, peaceful sleep. The serenity evident on her face, even with eyes nearly sealed shut, was quite contrary to the usual torment that resided there when she slumbered. It wasn't often that she was able to stay asleep for more than two to three hours, without waking up in a cold sweat, panting and clutching onto the sheets for dear life. This was primarily due to the chilling nightmares that haunted her every time she closed her lids, reigniting her greatest fears and forcing her to repeatedly face all of the trauma from her past. Subsequently, she found herself avoiding sleep, always up in the wee hours of the morning contemplating a case or flipping aimlessly through the channels.

But at the moment, there was very little that could've intruded on the detective's rest. Completely free of clothing, she was lying on her stomach, chest pressed to the cool surface of the light blue sheets. Her dark, angelic head sank ever so slightly into the soft material of the matching pillow, and her lips were parted, allowing a steady pattern of inhale and exhale. She was at peace in the bed of a man who she had tried to keep at bay, to no avail. They had spent a night exploring one another, satisfying both their curiosity and hunger, while further strengthening their unique bond. Not to sound cliché, but it had been one of the most incredible experiences of her life.

In other words, sex with Richard Castle was good. Really, _really_ good. He probably would've preferred the more romanticized term of 'lovemaking', but she was a cop, and in her book, it was sex.

Even in her sleep, a smile tugged at the corners of Kate's red and kissed lips. Her dreams reminisced of how playful he had been, never taking anything too seriously and thus making it fun for her, too. He'd also been generous, so ready to focus on her needs, her desires. She'd felt as though her body was a rare delicacy that he'd wanted to savor every moment of devouring, for though he'd been passionate -- holy mother of God, he'd made her blood sing in her veins -- he had also taken his good, sweet time. In all honestly, her subconscious mind recalled having gotten rough with him a few times, being used to getting what she demanded instantaneously. But he had insisted on maintaining a slow, agonizing pace, which had made her more desperate and horny than ever before. She had both loved and hated him for wanting their 'first time' together to memorable, though she had to admit, it would stay with her until her dying day.

Giving a long, luxurious sigh in her slumber, Kate was just about to embark on another pleasure jaunt down memory lane when she heard the most horrifying, unwelcome sound to ever greet her ears. It was the shrill ringing of a cell phone, shattering the tranquility of her sleep and summoning a wave of dread that washed away all the liquid elation that had coated her muscles from a good, long romp between the sheets. She could not bring herself to move from the imprint she'd made upon the mattress, which curved into her shape and provided a haven of comfort that she could've hidden in for the rest of the day.

When the ringing ceased, hope ignited within her that maybe, just maybe she wouldn't have to get up after all. It could've been anyone -- a wrong number, a friend, even her father -- all of whom she could either ignore or call back later. But when the cursed noise started up again, Kate knew that it was duty dialing in, never failing to disrupt her at a time when she least desired it. Although she knew crime never rested, it still pissed her off that she couldn't either.

Not even bothering to open her eyes, the disgruntled brunette thrust out a putty-like arm and scrabbled blindly for the source of her mounting irritation. Locating it and shoving it against her ear, she murmured in a drowsy, spiritless tone, "Beckett." It was her standard greeting, and after uttering it, she waited without anticipation for a member of her team to start spouting the details of another gruesome death.

However, the individual at the other end was hardly male or business-like. In fact, it was a youthful sound, and brought to the forefront of her mind chimes swaying in the ocean breeze. "Detective Beckett?" Confusion clouded the pleasant, cheerful voice of the bright and fifteen year-old redhead.

Immediately, Kate sat bolt upright, quite nearly rocketing through the ceiling and off toward Mars. "_Alexis_?!" She was out of breath, her voice catching in her throat and emerging as a high-pitched yelp. There was no mistaking that she was now entirely, mercilessly alert, and filled with a nervous energy that made her hands quake. "Uh, _hey_. Good morning." She sounded like one of those idiots who inhaled helium for entertainment, or a busybody who had just sucked down ten cappuccinos. The realization that it was not her own phone she'd answered hit her like a ton of bricks.

"G'morning, even though it's, like, ten 'til one..." Came her uncertain, though impeccably agreeable reply.

Silently cursing, Kate glanced at the bedside digital clock reflexively -- it was merely flashing nonsensical numbers. Vaguely, it dawned on her that the power must've come back on, though at the moment her thoughts were otherwise occupied. "Oh, right." She chuckled nervously, sounding like a chipmunk being slowly strangled by an anaconda.

There was a brief pause, in which the detective could hear noise in the background on the other line. She deducted that Alexis must've been in a public place, and used a pay phone, thus explaining why her obnoxious custom ringtone hadn't sounded.

The slightest amount of suspicion could be detected in the teenager's tone. "Um, I thought I called my dad's number, but maybe--"

Cutting her off mid-sentence, Kate reassured in an overeager voice, "Oh, yeah, this is his." She could've put a round through her own thick skull, realizing immediately how very transparent she was making the situation. Attempting to nail a speedy recovery, she tacked on in the same fervent tone, "We, uh... We're at a crime scene." Squeezing her eyes shut tight, she prayed that she sounded more convincing than she felt.

"Of course." The smile in Alexis' voice made Kate's cheeks redden.

Taking a stab at humor, she voiced in a slightly more stable tone, "Heat waves and blackouts don't stop killers, unfortunately." Rubbing her temples, it never even occurred to her to ask why the young girl had called in the first place.

"Nope, guess not." Alexis concurred, then fell silent. Awkward quiet ensued, blaring louder than any of the background noise or the words they had spoken. Then, after those few ungainly moments: "Detective?"

"Yes?"

"Is my dad around?"

"Oh, right, sorry about that." Of course she would want to speak to Rick, after all, it'd been his phone she'd called. Internally chiding herself for such stupidity, Kate heard the biting, sarcastic little voice inside her head remark, _Yet another shining moment to add to the repertoire of the brilliant Katherine Beckett. _Stifling it, she added in what she hoped was a casual, unaffected tone, "He's, uh, speaking with another detective about the case. I'll go round him up for you, if you'll hold on a moment."

"Sure, thanks." There was a hint of laughter in the girl's voice, making the detective wonder just what was running through that clever mind of hers.

For the first time since she'd been stirred awake, Kate noticed that her bedmate was nowhere to be found. Tossing quick glances about the room, she ground her teeth in consternation. Why was it that Castle constantly attached himself to her when she needed him the least, but then would mysteriously disappear on the rare occurrence his presence was desired? Hastily hopping off the mattress, phone in hand, she took a swift peep in the closet -- never knew what the goofball might be up to -- and then proceeded into the hall. Not having had the forethought to cover herself with the sheet, or throw on one of Rick's shirts, she felt vulnerable and exposed in the open corridor.

Moving on tiptoes for whatever reason, Kate was nearing the stairs when she did a double-take. The bathroom door was left open a crack, and as she drew closer to it, the sound of running water reached her ears. _Damn_, she thought, and was just about to enter when the teenager on hold beckoned.

"Detective Beckett?" Queried the youthful voice, reminding Kate that she was taking suspiciously long to walk the length of a crime scene.

Once again holding the phone up to her ear, she attempted to sound calm, cool, and collected -- her usual demeanor. "Sorry for the wait, Alexis. It seems your father has taken up a part-time career as an escape artist."

"Oh, it's fine, trust me. I've lost him in the supermarket one too many times myself." They shared a short laugh. "Maybe you could have him call my mom's cell when he decides to turn up again? Mine died."

Relief washed over Kate's nerves, ceasing the queasiness in her stomach and loosening the tautness of her muscles. "Sure thing." The strain in her voice also evaporated, as she realized that, perhaps, all was not lost.

"Thanks." A pause. "Oh, and Detective?"

Now entirely at ease, the female cop responded, "Yes, Alexis?" It was a marvel that she'd managed to come out looking squeaky clean, despite the circumstances. She couldn't help feeling that a catastrophe had been narrowly avoided.

"Remind my dad to reset the clocks when he gets out of the shower." A full-blown, nothing-gets-past-me grin was wholly evident in her words.

Kate blanched. "I... Wh--" Something equivalent to the size of soccer ball had lodged itself in her throat, and prevented any comprehensible statement from emerging.

"Seeya, Detective Beckett." Alexis dissolved into a fit of laughter, just before she ended the call.

Mouth ajar, Kate only vaguely registered that the phone had slipped from her hand, and now clattered to the hardwood floor. Her back collided with the adjacent wall, as she recoiled from the shock. How the _hell_ had the young girl figured it out? If Alexis was that good at putting two and two together, she should consider a career as a criminal investigator herself.

"Well, _shit_," Kate stated to the empty hallway at large. Although Alexis had seemed far from upset, she couldn't help feeling that it had been the wrong way for her to find out about whatever was going on between she and Castle. Last night, she hadn't much thought about how the teenager would feel about their little rendezvous -- she had been too busy fulfilling a fantasy she'd had for longer than she would ever admit. "At least I had the presence of mind to keep him from ripping my clothes off on her bed..." She muttered in defense of herself.

Shaking her head for what felt like the millionth time, the detective pivoted on her heel and entered the bathroom. She'd decided that she didn't want to wait to tell Castle that he had a genius for a child, and besides, surprising him in the shower didn't sound all too shabby of an idea. Just as well, she was eager to wash away the film of sweat that coated her skin, as a result of both the heat wave and a night of strenuous ... _exercise_.

Walking as though on a bed of eggshells, Kate was careful not to make any noise as she slid into the small room. Taking in her surroundings with a quick sweep of the eyes, she was amused to find that the shower curtain adorned little pink lipsticks and stilettos -- undoubtedly Martha's touch. She wished Esposito and Ryan could have seen it, as they would've howled at the girliness of it all. Then again, the decoration wouldn't even have come in close second to her standing there naked, in Castle's bathroom no less. The sentiment to share the moment with the two wisecracking men quickly disintegrated.

Refocusing on the task at hand, Kate wordlessly grasped the material of the curtain, and peeled it back just enough for her to step inside. She immediately detected an increase in temperature, despite the fact that the water was relatively cool. His back was facing her, allowing her an unobstructed view of his tight, muscled ass -- the one she had admired more often than she would've liked to acknowledge.

Smirking, the female detective snaked both arms around his waist, and pressed herself up against his back. "Thought you could romp and run, I see?" She murmured enticingly, caressing his ear with her lips and flicking the lobe with her tongue. Lowering her hand, she found him, and he moaned softly. "You missed all the action, daddy dearest," she purred, resting her chin on his shoulder.

Rick gave a low, husky laugh. "That I find _very_ hard to believe." He twisted in her arms so that they faced one another, only water finding a way between their entwined bodies. "And why did you call me that? You know as well as I that nicknames are a pastime of mine, but honestly, that one just gives me the creeps." Planting a kiss upon her moist forehead, he held her close, unable to get enough of the sensation.

"Your daughter called," she paused, hands roaming the toned, slippery expanse of his body, "and I answered."

Rick pulled back just enough to see her face, his hazel eyes probing, seeing into the depths of her soul. There was a contemplative silence. Then: "You look good wet."

Gently swiping the back of his head with her palm, Kate demanded, "That's really all you have to say?" And though her emerald eyes twinkled, it was obvious that she expected a real answer.

Another moment of ruminative quiet came and went, with nothing but the sound of cascading water to fill it. Finally, Rick determined, "Tell me about it... while I wash your hair." A droplet fell from the end of his nose and onto hers.

"What? No way," Kate immediately refused, the cop in her stomping on the proposal. "I've been washing my own hair for the past three decades, Castle. Why would I suddenly forget?" She cupped his cheek, shaking her head in both admiration and impatience. "Besides, I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you here."

Suddenly Rick was behind her, gathering up her damp, dark hair in one fist. He pressed his lips to the back of her neck, sending an involuntary chill down her spine. "And I," he trailed kisses across the expanse of her slender shoulders, using his tongue, "am trying to pamper you." Turning her head to gaze into her eyes, he said sincerely, tenderly, "Let me take care of you, Kate." He lightly brushed back the bangs clinging to her forehead. "Please."

Looking away, Kate felt the frenzied fluttering of her heart in her chest. "Don't forget to rinse and repeat," she whispered.

Kissing the top of her head, Rick couldn't keep the smile off of his face. "I wouldn't dare." He murmured in reply. Squirting some shampoo into his palm, he paused, reveling in the moment. She was relinquishing some of her precious control, and letting him slip past her defenses -- a truly magnificent feat.

Resuming the process, the mystery writer began to massage her scalp, luxuriously lathering the shampoo into her dark locks. "So, what's all this about Alexis?" He inquired softly, his mouth inches from her ear.

Kate sighed, all coherent thought fleeing from her mind. She leaned into him, her muscles turning to liquid. "She, uh..." Her words were breathless, bordering on a moan. "She called while I was still asleep and... Mmm, that feels _nice_..."

"Told you so, love," he sang faintly, nimble fingers like busy bees. "Go on, don't let me distract you."

Choosing to ignore his smugness, Kate continued, "And I answered it, thinking there might be a body. I didn't know..." She paused to gather her thoughts, which were flighty and tenuous. All she could think of were his fingers, and how she wanted them touching her like that everywhere. "I just didn't know it was your phone."

"Uh-huh," Rick prompted, narrowly refraining from laughter at her wispy resolve. She was coming undone before him, unfolding like a beautiful flower at the peak of Spring. "What did you tell her?" He asked. In all honesty, he wasn't too concerned -- Alexis had been rooting for them from the start. The only reason he pretended to be keenly interested was to appease Kate, who seemed to think it a matter of earth-shattering importance.

Kate allowed him to steer her beneath the shower nozzle, rinsing all the shampoo from her hair. He kneaded her shoulders with warm and gentle hands, working out all the knots and kinks in her muscles. "Nothing," She sighed, tilting her head back. "I just said we were at a crime scene... and that you were speaking with another detective."

"Hm... Unlikely, considering they all hate my guts." Rick chuckled, setting in for the second shampoo cycle. "But a respectable excuse. Anything else?" He was only half-listening, very much concentrated on the dark silk between his fingers.

Arching her back slightly, Kate produced a low, guttural sound of pleasure. It was almost animal, and made his hair stand on end -- in a good way, of course.

"She knows." The detective breathed, warmth spreading to each of her limbs. "About us, I mean."

Rick liked the sound of the word 'us' coming from her mouth, in reference to she and him. It was something he'd dreamed about for a long time, and could hardly believe was becoming reality. "How?" He questioned in a serene tone, no longer concerned with sounding engrossed. She was so drowsy, he could've spoken Chinese and it would've gone clear over her head.

"I believe her exact words were..." Kate paused, thinking back to a moment that seemed oddly far away. "'Remind my dad to reset the clocks when he's finished showering.'" She laughed, a shallow and breathy sound. "You've got a female Sherlock on your hands, Rick. Best of luck."

Rick grinned, at both his daughter's and Kate's words. "She's got some sleuth in her, that's for certain. Better hold on to your badge, Detective." He positioned her beneath the shower head again, this time to rinse away the conditioner.

Once finished, Kate looked at him with a gratitude and fondness that warmed his heart. Resting her head on his chest, she asked, "Do you think she's upset? It wasn't exactly the most delicate way for her to find out." It was clear that this was something she had been considering in-depth, and cared deeply about. "I mean, I know it can be a painful, tricky matter... I hope she knows I would never try to replace her mother, or--"

Lifting her head and pressing a finger to her lips, Rick couldn't help but smile at the detective's anxiety -- it was rather endearing. "Alexis loves her mother, don't get me wrong. But they are like fire and water, and too much time together could result in world destruction." He mimed an explosion, his eyes crossing in the process. "It's sweet that you're concerned for her feelings, but to be frank, we're all glad that Meredith is compelled to live on the other side of the country. Fifty states is just enough separation."

Looking down at Kate in admiration, the bright-eyed man teased lovingly, "And you said that you weren't mother material. Hah! You've certainly got the worrying aspect down pat." His trademark cheeky smile emerged, as she shot him a glare. "I was trying to compliment you, m'dear. Guess I failed." He shrugged, shaking his head in sorrow.

"Miserably." Kate complied, and turned briefly to shut off the shower. Proceeding to coil her arms around his neck, she ordered in an affectionate tone, "Now, go call that crafty daughter of yours and tell her we're picking her up for a late lunch. Somebody has to rescue her from the deep-fried twinkie, and it might as well be us."

Rick smiled gleefully, his face visibly enlightening at the prospect. "I do believe that's the best idea you've had all day, policewoman."

Cupping his face in both hands, Kate kissed him lightly. When she pulled back, there was a grin on her face that could give the sun a run for its money. "We actually agree on something. Who would've thought it possible?" Thrusting aside the curtain, she stepped out onto the mat, holding his hands and dripping wet. "Plus, I want to share with her all the special things you say in your sleep. It's really quite priceless -- blackmail at it's finest, if I do say so myself."

Rick's face took on an entirely serious expression. "I talk in my sleep?" He looked like a man who had just been recounted a life-altering revelation. "What did I say?"

Patting his cheek, Kate looked at him as though he were a lost cause, a tragedy. "I feel for your machismo, darling." She then took off into the hall, laughing.

His eyes were wider than saucers. "But, but... I'm a _real boy_!" Rick cried, before sprinting off after her.

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_El final._

_-----_

_A/N: There you have it everyone, the end! Thanks again for reading, and I appreciate any and all reviews. I have begun to write the first chapter of the sequel to this story, so keep an eye open, as it will be up soon enough. I have decided to title the sequel, "Worth the Wait", and plan to have it started/posted in a few days. So, fear not -- the fun continues! Have a great year and don't forget to watch Castle on ABC, y'all._


	9. Important Author's Note

Hey, everyone -- sorry if you thought this was another chapter to the story! It's actually just me here to tell you:

**THE SEQUEL TO THIS STORY IS UP!**

It's called _**Worth the Wait**_, and you can get to it by going to my page (in other words, click on international-gurl322 up there!). Hopefully it keeps your interest, and meets your expectations -- let me know what you think! Reviewers will receive a prize of their choice xD

Thanks so very much for reading this story, and hope you enjoy the sequel!

_Love always_,

Kate (a.k.a. international-gurl322)

P.S. sharing a name with Detective Beckett has made writing Castle fanfic quite strange -- completely awesome, but strange. Makes me feel like I'm referring to myself... Just a little tidbit ;)

_Castle-ism #23: Yes, Beckett? Either there's a dead body or you just wanna hear my sultry voice._


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